


the bluebird’s song

by ecomexi



Category: Ensemble Stars, Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecomexi/pseuds/ecomexi
Summary: And now, as he was walking away, the voice stuck. Why was it that it stuck now? After all the times Tsumugi had sung to him as children? After all the times Tsumugi had sung during Switch’s practices, during those times that he had seemed the most at peace with himself?





	the bluebird’s song

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda lame and late but i wanted to do something for natsumekuns birthday dhfjdk i’m busy with writing a large fic so i couldn’t really do anything substantial orz... forgive me natsume

Once it begun, one night after school had let out, in the barren dark where he had not expected a single soul to be, it could not escape his mind. Natsume wasn’t a sentimental person, nor was he one to exaggerate. It was just a simple thing — a voice. But it... sounded good.

Standing outside the practice room, perhaps lingering for a moment by the command of some unknown emotion, his hand that had only just grasped the doorknob — that’s the kind of compromising and somewhat clichéd position Natsume happened to be in before he stopped, and his nose raised as if he were a fox that had suddenly sensed the aroma of danger. And he had, in fact, sensed a type of danger; a gentle, amicable, and yet overpowering sound — a voice. And not just any voice. It was a voice that Natsume recognized; he knew it all too well, even. It was Tsumugi’s, as much as he hated to realize it after he had mused over the softness of the voice for a fraction of a second. He couldn’t see his face (although some part of Natsume wished that he could have seen the peaceful look on Tsumugi’s face when he was singing those notes — not that he would ever admit that to himself or to anyone else), but he knew. It was a fact.

As soon as this truth had made itself clear to Natsume, he spun around and felt his feet hitting the concrete, walking away as if ashamed. No, he would not stalk outside and listen to the mellifluous voice any longer than he already had. And now, as he was walking away, the voice stuck. Why was it that it stuck now? After all the times Tsumugi had sung to him as children? After all the times Tsumugi had sung during Switch’s practices, during those times that he had seemed the most at peace with himself? If it stuck now and not then, it must mean something was different. The voice was more confident; it was clearer; it had none of their families’ talking and cooing muting it or instrumentals hiding in front of it. That was the solution to the equation. It had to be.

Ah, all of this was silly. It really was. Natsume acknowledged this and his fists squeezed shut tight. He was faced with silence, and he also heard a stop to the voice in the practice room, which was a few paces away and growing. Before Natsume could think to pick up the pace, the voice called out. He quickly slipped behind the corner, away from anyone who could have seen him from the practice room’s entrance.

“Helloo...? Who’s there...?”

Silently, Nasume cursed and clung to the wall. How did he know he was listening in on him? _Ugh. Senpai really is a troublesome person._ Natsume stuck to his hiding spot, unable to prepare any sort of tricks for a sudden and sly escape. All he had been doing was heading to the practice room to pick his bags up, after all. Unsuspecting to anyone who may have arrived there before him. So instead, he was forced to stand there, stiff, and pray that he wouldn’t be discovered. Pray that Tsumugi wouldn’t pursue this mysterious person that he had supposedly overhead, and that he wouldn’t turn his head around the corner so that his glasses briefly flashed in the lamp-lit courtyard, and untense his body when he saw Natsume there, practically cowering before him, and...

Ah. So was discovered.

“Natsume-kun?” spoke Tsumugi with the most curious look about him. Natsume disconnected from the practice room’s wall. “Aah, so it was just you who was outside? You scared me, I thought there was a spirit haunting me or something...!”

Natsume glared. “Of course I wasn’t a spiRIT. What kind of dunce are yOU? I don’t know why I continue to be surprised by your idiOCY.”

“That’s mean, Natsume-kun!” Tsumugi whined. “Just because you have a habit of being defensive doesn’t mean you should take it out on me!”

“tCH. You deserve IT. And I’m not defensIVE.”

“Ah, anyway, what are you doing here so late?” questioned Tsumugi. “I thought you’d be celebrating with your mother at this time of night.”

“Mommy and I had a birthday dinner yesterDAY.” Natsume hmph’d as if this should have been obvious to Tsumugi. “What do you cARE?”

“Ah, no reason in particular, I just thought I sensed someone —” he eyed Natsume suspiciously — “outside while I was... practicing.”

“yOU. Were practicING. on your OWN?”

“Of course!” Tsumugi smiled, and his hands met his hips in a casual motion. “I have to practice if I can ever hope to live up to you and Sora, Natsume-kun! ♪”

“That’s ridicuLOUS,” Natsume insisted with a haughty glare. “For someone like yOU, your voice is...”

Natsume trailed off and felt Tsumugi’s eyes boring into him curiously, waiting for him to finish whatever was left of the sentence. Natsume solidified his resolve and his gaze froze over. “It’s good, you failURE,” he began with little ease, “and you are a part of Switch, so don’t forget or I’ll make you regret IT.”

“Ah... Thank you?” Tsumugi smiled awkwardly; Natsume’s line of sight drifted elsewhere as he spoke. Like he was trying to live out the phrase ‘if I can’t see it, it’s not there.’ “As usual Natsume-kun is being socially inept, but I’m getting the feeling I’m being complimented, so I guess I’m grateful?”

“You’re finally learNING.” Natsume grimaced, and then took a hesitant step away. “I’m leaving, thEN. You should go home too, senPAI.”

“Happy birthday!” sang Tsumugi as Natsume coldly turned to go into the pitchness of the expired sky. He felt his lips, against his own will, turn upwards a bit. Natsume cursed his emotions and forced them down again.

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @ shinmetoriii


End file.
